Slavery and Devotion
by Articwolfstudios
Summary: On a diplomatic trip to Caraway fief, Alyss is caught amid a Skandian raid. When she is captured and taken to Hallasholm to be sold as a slave, Will follows a week behind her.
1. Capture

Alyss was woken by incomprehensible shouting from somewhere below her. Slowly she opened her eyes and rubbed the sleep away as screams were heard from another room. She jolted up as a crash came from outside! Her surprised alarm was increased when warning bells started, ringing through her head. The shouting continued along the row of rooms on her floor in the Inn, the screams were silenced abruptly.

Lying down, she was frozen in shock. Her mind raced to work out what all the sounds were, she was taking too long to decide on a course of action however and the door was smashed open. Standing there she saw two bulky Skandians, one was holding a large bag, the other some rope. Her mind finally grasped that she was in the middle of a raid and she dashed desperately for her knife that she always kept at the side of the bed. She grasped at air however and she realised that she had left it in her scabbard hanging from her skirt. Turning she saw the two Skandians approach her slowly, one was grinning at their prize, with a sudden stab of fear she realised that they would enslave her! She remembered Will recounting his experiences in Hallasholm and realising the horrific details managed to stand up and dash for the window, not even noticing that she was in a night gown. Laughing at her attempt to open the wooden shutters, the man with the rope grabbed her round the waist; lifting her off the floor. He wasn't hurt by the elbow that she launched at his nose, only reasonably surprised. Regardless of how the huge man felt, he dropped the lithe girl who ran for the door but was encountered by an even larger Skandian- if that was even possible. He struck her round the temple as she dashed at him and then, in a surprisingly flexible manoeuvre he grabbed the limp figure and dropped her into the bag.

He frowned at the figure who had turned, seeking revenge for the insult.

"You _sure_ you ain't losin' your touch Asvald?"

"Shut it." Asvald replied to the slightly larger figure, "she surprised me is all."

"Riiight," joked the larger Skandian holding Alyss.

"Whatever, let's just take her back to the ship," he pointed a finger at the figure and tossed the rope to his friend, "the others will have created enough havoc in the town hall for us to get back."

They ran out of the room and fumbled their way down the stairs. Once there, the unburdened Asvald grabbed two barrels of ale. Placing them at the door he picked another, using his battleaxe to open a gaping hole in it, he soaked the serving room before running out, running back for the two unopened barrels and ran back again to the empty barrel. His fellow pirate was already at work trying to ignite a tinderbox. Finally the man managed to make a spark which floated down to the timber that the man was holding. Upon contact with the incredibly dry wood, the spark burst into flame. Then he threw it into the line of alcohol, before lifting up the prone body and legging it with Asvald.

_One week later, in Redmont fief._

Will stretched his arms and legs out with a gaping yawn. He opened his eyes, listening to the harmony of birds chirping. He stayed that way for almost twenty minutes, he was in that blissful state where any position is comfortable. Then, with a sudden burst of energy, he leapt from his bed landing in a heap of clothes from the night before. His first thoughts were centred on breakfast. So he marched out of his room, and into the kitchen. He looked at the fresh vase of flowers and was reminded of Halt; that trail of thought brought him to the reminder that he had a report due in for inspection of Redmont to send to Crowley by the end of that week. He was now the conjoined Ranger of Redmont fief alongside Halt, only two months into his commission in the Special Tasks Force assembled by Crowley. Alongside his _epiphany _of his location he remembered that Alyss also lived in the area! Woken fully by the joyful realisation that Alyss would be his during the day, then his spirits were dampened when he recalled that Alyss was on a diplomatic mission to Caraway fief. Suddenly in a sullen mood, he lost his appetite, resolving to drink just coffee that morning.

After a satisfying cup of the brown liquid, Will's next task was to feed and water Tug. Putting a hand into a bowl of apples, Will walked over to Tug's stable; he was greeted with a hearty 'neigh' as he lifted a bucket full of water to Tug's nose. A few seconds of sloppy sipping was to follow, then Will let out a startled laugh as Tug swung his head round to grasp the apple from his hand. The resounding echo of Tug munching on the apple was a welcome start to the morning.

"Let's go see Halt, shall we Tug?" suggested Will as he buckled the saddle around Tug.

_If it pleases you..._

Once again Will wondered at how accurate his translations were.

A few minutes later they were trotting down the castle courtyard to Halt and Pauline's room, he planned to discuss with Halt any detail that had been left out of his report and simply talk to his former mentor. He had left his Mandola for obvious reasons.

Dismounting Tug and walking the last few metres to the couple's room, Will heard muffled voices coming from inside. Listening carefully when he did not recognise a third person and lightly tapped the door. The talking stopped, a single whisper broke the silence that Will identified as Halt. Then Pauline called out in a hoarse voice to come in.

Worried by Pauline's speech, Will pushed open the door. He was immediately drawn to Pauline who looked like she was barely suppressing strong feelings, something Will have never seen before from her, then to Halt who looked as he always did, grim and implacable. His usually tough visage however showed a flash of sadness when Will walked. Finally he saw a messenger who turned towards him and made for the door. He nodded to the cowled figure.

"Begging your pardon Ranger." Before brushing past the young man.

"What's happened?" Will asked brusquely, opting for a direct approach.

Pauline looked like she might say something but was cut off by Halt.

"It's Alyss, Will. Skandians raided Caraway while she was there."

_One week earlier, in Caraway fief._

Alyss woke up as she was tossed onboard. She felt the rope loosen around her stomach but before she could have any thought of escaping, she was pushed to the mast and retied to it. She was terrified of these sea raiders but she was also scared of not being able to see where she was. Slowly, she discovered that if she wriggled enough then she could poke her head through the narrow slit of the fabric. After minutes of squirming and more than one warning from the Skandians left behind to guard the ship she finally managed to poke her head out of the canvas. Looking around she discovered that they were still moored, there was no sign of the rest of the crew.

She looked around at the pirates to see if they were watching her . They weren't, the five man guard stared enviously at the carnage going on in the depths of the fishing village that Alyss and her entourage had stayed the night at.

It dawned on Alyss that the raiders weren't paying attention to her, that this was the only attempt for freedom she had. So-very carefully- she pulled the bag down past her body, and past her legs. After removing the rough material she looked up fearfully to see if she had been discovered. She breathed out slowly when there was no shouting. She manoeuvred herself to her feet and stalked briskly to the side of the ship. She glanced back, they were still unaware of her escape! Looking down she winced at how high up she was but bit back and launched herself over the edge. She streamlined her body in an attempt to reduce any noise she would make, but despite her efforts it was inevitable that she would create some sound. And that sound was heard by the Northmen gathered on top of the ship. As one they twisted, looking for the source of noise. The taller of the two men who had originally captured her swore first when he saw her bag empty, he ran over to the side of the boat and peered down at a soaked figure swimming frantically for the shore.

Cursing, he considered jumping. But despite the water faring nature of Skandians, very few can actually swim. Turning back to the grounded side of the Wolfship, he climbed down one of the ropes still hanging, waiting for the returning Skandians. The sea raider spotted the girl rising from the water, trying to run but being laden down by her wet gown, he trudged through the sand towards her; she saw his approach and let out a frightened yelp and tried to increase the tempo of her escape. Before she could take three further steps, she was hoisted onto his shoulder, but she had anticipated this and had grabbed a handful of sand which she slapped into his eyes. He bellowed in pain and dropped her. She was already pivoting away from him when she was grabbed by the other man: Asvald.

"And you said I was losing _my _touch Borak?" laughed Asvald, drinking in the pained glare from the other man.

"Just get her back on the ship." He grumbled, angry at the girl who had made a fool of him. He planned to resolve their conflict later.

Just then another voice sounded from the deck.

"Get your arses up here! The chief's back and he looks like he's had one helluva raid."

_In Redmont Fief_

"She was captured?" Will almost yelled at Halt.

"Her entire retinue was slaughtered in their beds Will, and then they burnt the inn down. Caraway's Ranger found her diplomatic knife," he pulled the blade out of a draw string bag, "but no Alyss."

Will fought to keep his breath under control, if Alyss was not counted among the dead and Halt believed she had been captured then the Skandians would almost certainly be taking her to Hallasholm as a slave.

"Why were they raiding Araluen anyway? We have a treaty!"

Halt acknowledged the statement with a single nod. "I suspect it was the same reason they raided in Seacliff. They had had a terrible raiding season there and settled with a last minute assault on a coastal town."

Will let his anger build up and consume him, "I'm going after her." He finally stated.

Will expected Halt to protest and give a dozen reasons why he shouldn't, but instead he approved with Will's decision.

"You'll have to inform Crowley of the mission."

Will nodded his confirmation of the fact.

"Are you coming?"

Halt looked up sadly, "You know I can't Will. The Task Force has to leave two behind at all times. You could take Horace with you, you know he'd want to rescue Alyss."

Will nodded a second time, it was practical. Both Crowley and Horace lived in Castle Araluen, plus Horace would be more than helpful in the Icebound Land of Skandia. Especially if he needed a few truths spilt from Borsa who would be in charge of finding a job for a new slave.

"I'll talk to him." Then he shook his head in angry anticipation.

Pauline realised his need for movement.

"Goodbye Will, bring Alyss back."

Will returned the formality before running back out of the house and kicking up onto Tug. He veered the shaggy little pony towards his destination and, sensing his energy, the intelligent mount set off at a monstrous speed towards the gates and towards Castle Araluen.


	2. Plans and Preparation

**A/N: **

**Sorry to those who waited, namely my readers, but I've actually been recovering from a disease these past four months. The correct medical term is Procrastinas Cancerus, better known as procrastination!**

**And, sorry for not putting an author's note on the previous chapter, I don't know why I didn't put that there as I always do. **

_**[Gets a distant look in his eye] **_**I swear! I shall never let any one of my loyal readers down by not putting an author's note at the beginning or end of a chapter again!**

* * *

_Aboard a Skandian ship, The Constant Sea_

Alyss was hunched up, her wrists bound and her outlook bleak. Across from her were two other captives, their eyes reflecting the fear she felt from the marauders who had captured them. It had been two days since the Skandian raid had taken place on the coastal port-village in Caraway fief, Alyss and the other two prisoners had been hurled down into a storage layer.

Once the shock had started to wear off and the grim reality settled in they had introduced themselves: Karen and Harris, the pair were a couple; caught embracing in panic when the shouts had started. They had been living in the village-which went by the name of Northport, both for its location and occupation- as a temporary _getaway_ from both of their families who both disapproved of their union. They had been planning to marry and settle in further south, perhaps to Redmont even.

She had announced herself simply as Alyss, a courier taking a temporary getaway from Araluen.

Nobody had laughed.

It was a shame, she thought, that humour would be a little sparse on this seaward voyage. But she was convinced that once the Skandian jarl or skirl, whichever it might be, came down to inspect his cargo she could convince him that they were really not very worthwhile prisoners to keep. She was being courted by Will Treaty of course. As she had formed the thought the door was roughly shoved out of the way, causing Karen to emit a high pitch shrill that set Alyss' teeth on edge. She looked up to _see the sea_ skirl-as she was now sure that he was- heading their way. His eyes lit up at the sight of her and he positively grinned at the fear of the couple who could have been weeping from the noises they were making. Finally he made it to the hold floor.

"Right, no sugar coating this. You are now slaves of me, you're lives are no more than possessions, talking back will not be tolerated, yadda yadda yadda. Any questions? These are your last moments as human beings so this really is your last chance to," he paused for emphasis, "_complain." _

He burst out laughing, his deep booming and guttural tones causing the couple to cry even louder into each other's arms. A truly irritating display, thought Alyss. Looking up into his stormy face that was largely hidden by a great bushy beard Alyss cleared her throat to speak.

"I wouldn't go through with this if I were you." The brutal Skandian stopped in his sudden shock that one of them _had_ actually spoken up, an unprecedented feat. And then he burst out laughing.

"Wha-ya-**HAHAAAA**! Listen ya little whelp, I've taken so many prisoners that it's a little late to be sayin' wha' is and wha' isn't a good enough idea to take aboard. But what 'as been taken aboard is you and those cry-babbies over there and we ain't puttin' ya ashore!" Alyss sighed, the man was already drunk, explaining would not be easy.

"Look, you caught us, we're going to be slaves, I get it. But think, is monetary gain more important than your life?" The Skandian was struck silent again, first he didn't know what '_monetary_' meant but it also seemed like this little girl was threatening him.

So he exploded into laughter once more. This time it took him a full minute to settle down, during which time Alyss was growing steadily more and more tired of his deliriously happy-drunk mind, she would wager that his hangover left him in a much less jovial mood.

"Wha' are you talkin' about you little fool? I'll have you know that I'm Hallvard, skirl of this ship- Wolf Wish- and there ain't nothin' in ya that can threaten me!"

"Oh, it won't be me threatening you, but soon someone is going to start following us. He'll pick up the trail from the very whispers of the wind if he has to, but he'll never lose our path. Because of what you've done here, the tracker will be hounding this ship like it was his life's purpose!"

"And just who is this, _fantastical tracker_?" Scoffed Hallvard.

Alyss allowed herself a small smile.

"His name is—"

* * *

"Will? How the devil did you get here?" Asked a surprised and very shocked Horace as Will appeared in his dining room. "Ranger stuff; lazy guards." Will replied, clearly in a rush to get to a story that he needed Horace to hear.

"Well, sit down Will. Make yourself comfortable- it's nearly night time. Would you like me to find you some accommodation?"

Will brushed away all the offers, impatient to get to the point that he had arrived for.

"Horace look, we don't have time for all this. Pack your things, we're going to see Crowley." Horace stopped in mid flow and looked at Will in shock.

"Crowley? Wha' why?"

"I've set us up a mission, we're off to Skandia!"

The suddenness of the situation Horace had been forced into caught up with him and he was unable to speak for a moment. After a long pause he finally managed to rearrange his thoughts.

"Alright Will, why don't you start from the beginning?"

Will looked flustered and an unusual anger clouded his face.

"No god damn time! I'll fill you in with Crowley- now move!"

"Well if we're going that far and without preparation, at least let me get some basic provisions." He saw Will about to interrupt, "I'm sure you can hunt for us on the way but it'll only take a second." He pulled Will off of him as he struggled to drag him out of the room manually, then he walked into another room to fetch salted meat and empty water skins.

"Hurry up!" He heard Will shout in a frenzy of inactivity. Deciding to increase his tempo, Horace grabbed his sword and buckler, as well as his chain mail and armoured leggings. Feeling rushed however he left the bulkier items of armour where they stood.

"Can we go down to the stables first? I don't want to carry all of this around."

Will gnashed his teeth in seething fury as the time ticked away.

"No time! I'll carry your armour." He took hold of the chain mail and leggings, "Now let's go already!"

* * *

"Never 'eard of 'im." Grated out Hallvard

Alyss was deadpanned for a moment.

"You've never heard of him?" She realised her dramatical pauses and longwinded sentences had been for nought.

"Nah. Never heard of this 'Will Treaty' fella. Sounds like a pushover to be honest. Well, enjoy your life of servi'tood." He turned for the heavy wooden door before he seemed to reconsider, turning back to them again he opened his mouth as if to speak before backhanded Alyss across the jaw. She collapsed onto a pile of plundered rugs- not moving except for shallow inhales and exhales.

"Welcome to your new life girl-ie." He bellowed out another laugh and strode out of the door, slamming a lock behind him.

It never did to leave a prisoner without _some_ form of intimidation after all.

Alyss came around a few minutes later. She slowly cracked her eyes open and winced at even the slight shafts of light through the floorboards above; her jaw felt sore and swollen-she was unable to fully control her tongue- and her vision was tinged with red. Her head was pounding to the tempo of the greatest migraine of her life.

"Are you alright?" A whispered voice intruded in on her pain, she gritted her teeth as a hardly male voice intensified her already killer headache.

Harris turned towards Karen and spoke in a louder voice, "I don't think she's feeling too good."

Alyss groaned out her protests at his voice exacerbating her discomfort, she grabbed at a nonexistent pillow and caught a wooden beam with her fingernails, a splinter being forced into her ring finger.

She yowled out her anguish as Harris shouted in surprise, Karen screeched in shock and Alyss gripped the sides of her head in pain again. Of all people to be stuck with.

"Will you two shut up!" Alyss hissed at them through the pounding of her headache, "I've got a bloody headache."

"And a splinter in your finger," Karen added unhelpfully.

The courier sighed in frustration. Not only had she lost the quick way out of her predicament by the fear Will's name inspired (something she had always slightly enjoyed) but she was gifted with the most idiotic, naïve and immature fellow prisoners. They had been together for a whole twenty four hours and all they had done was cry, hug and give her splinters.

Atop this misfortune, Alyss had invoked the drunken wrath of one Hallvard the skirl. While his name did not invoke the mystery and awe that Will's did, his gut, biceps and breath inspired great fear indeed. If his mannerisms were anything to go by, as in his unfinished words and poor sentence structure, he was your average punch happy skirl. She missed the days when there was an Erak and Gundar to every Slagor. Despite the situation she giggled at the comparison.

She shook herself off. She was being immature, her courier training kicked in and she began to assess the situation with a step taken back.

Firstly, she was aboard a ship called Wolf Wish with a Skirl named Hallvard. She also knew the names of two other Skandians: Asvald and Borak.

She wondered if Borak was still angry about the sand in the eyes.

Secondly, she was being taken to Skandia as a slave. The reality had yet to truly sink into her but she knew this was a bad thing. She was also very far away from Will.

The knowledge scared her more than the slavery; he would come wouldn't he?

Of course he would! He loved her! She loved him! He would never abandon her!

But was she worth it?

Did she matter enough to him to cross the world in search of her?

The thoughts scared her immeasurably; the sudden impossibility gripped her with its claws.

Would he be bothered to come after her?

Would he?

Yes. Of course he would. Don't be stupid.

In any case, while she was stuck in a boat doing nothing but watching two morons hug, she could at least be constructive and plan her way out of Skandia. She had never been herself but Will's descriptions had been more than vivid: so long as they weren't caught by the Summer Storms, which seemed likely as the season was too early for such, they would steer clear of Skorghijl. With any luck, the detour would be avoided and they could get to Skandia as quick as possible.

The faster they got to Skandia the—

A loud wail interrupted her thoughts.

"We're never going to get out of here," Karen hiccupped, "we're going to spend the rest of our lives as slaves!" her throat caught again, "And we'll never return!" She broke down crying and sobbing on the floor while Harris tried to comfort her. Alyss sighed inwardly, this was going to be immensely difficult if they didn't toughen up and quickly; she decided that reassurance was going to be needed to keep them quiet. Besides, her headache wasn't being helped by her screaming.

"Hey!" Alyss silenced them, "I can get us out of this, okay?" They looked at her as if she had grown a second head.

"What do you mean... _a plan_?"

She repressed a sigh, "Yes, _a plan_. I have friends in Skandia; they can get us out of the country and back to Araluen."

In sickening unison both Karen and Harris opened their mouths to form an 'o' shape.

"So could you _please_ keep it down? My head is aching." To emphasise this she clutched her head again.

"Sorry Alyss," Harris spoke, sounding shamed.

Now that was better, where was she?

Oh yes! The faster they got to Skandia, the sooner they could see Erak and Borsa; and with those two she would only have to say 'Will' to get a ship back home. She hoped that Will wouldn't sail all the way to Skandia to find she was already back home.

* * *

**A/N:**

**Again, I know I took a helluva long time, and clearly I wasn't writing the whole time. It's the summer now, I feel inspired and determined so I'll get chapters out faster. I haven't updated anything in just _far _too long so I'll hurry up from now on.**

**Once more, my sincerest apologies.**


	3. Slowing Will Down

**Slavery and Devotion**

**Chapter 3**

** A/N**

** Ooh, I sure got you with that whole 'try to update sooner' thing didn't I? Allow me to extend my sympathy and a few drops of empathy; I'll try to update sooner (snickers).**

** Anyway, the rest of the story will follow on from the events of 'The Lost Stories' (the 11th book in the RA series) and so will contain spoilers. I'll go back and check the other chapters and correct any inconsistencies with the story as they may appear, along with the publication of his new Ranger's Apprentice series 'Brother Band' which deals largely with Skandian culture and so may bring holes into this story. If I do make any mistakes then please leave a review and I'll do my best to correct the slip without damaging the storytelling. And if that wasn't enough of a disclaimer then I don't know what is.**  
** If you haven't read the Lost Stories then I strongly suggest you do so.**  
** Also! The following chapters will be increasing in maturity, mainly through violence and themes (Alyss is alone on a ship with Skandians after all), I don't think you should be too perturbed by events but if you are weak of heart then I suggest you contact a doctor before turning on the news, real life is more violent than stories... _*sinister look*_**

* * *

The waves lapped gently against the hull of the boat, a fragile and tender rocking that was not dissimilar to an elderly woman on a creaking old chair.  
It would've made Halt sick.  
The three captives had been allowed to move from the hold in the bottom of the ship to the deck during day times although they were required to remain below decks when the sun set; but this was hardly a blessing as most-if not all- of the pirates were superstitious and disliked women on board or were inclined to leer if one passed by. With her natural courier grace and good looks, that woman was usually Alyss.  
"Get off of me!" Alyss yelled, pushing an overly amorous sea wolf away.  
It had been a full week since the raid at Northport, six days since she had tried to convince Hallvard that they weren't any good as prisoners and miles away from a Ranger she had been married to for only a month.  
The Skandian laughed and pulled her closer, somehow seeing her rejection of him to be a sign that she was interested.  
Since she had first poked her head out of their 'cabin' she had been aware of the pirate's individual opinions of her, they showed emotion with considerable gusto. First there was Hallvard, he was their skirl and had made a lasting effect on her, not a pleasant one mind: he wasn't the drunk that she thought he was but he might as well have been, he had a gut that hung past his belt, thinning hair but a beard to compensate. His breath stunk like fish left to rot, a smell that lingered wherever he went; it had occurred to her that he hadn't become skirl by conventional means but had aquired the Wolfwish in some less than legitimate way. He saw Harris, Karen and Alyss as possessions that he could sell to the highest bidder, fortunately this meant that he had them fed well enough and disapproved of actions that harmed their health overly much.  
Alyss dug her nails into his face and tried desperately to scratch her way out of his hold, carving deep red grooves into his cheeks as she did.  
Then there were those two sea wolves who had captured her in the first place, Asvald and Borak. Asvald was without doubt the friendliest of the marauders, he was first mate of the ship and was effectively in charge of Wolfwish on account of Hallvard's incapability; rowing with the oarsmen and steering the tiller when his shift was over. His amiable attitude was reminiscent of Erak's old first mate 'Svengal' that Will had described to her and there were certain similarities between the two that almost mirrored her capture with Harris and Karen to Will's capture with Cassandra.  
Of course Erak's crew were possibly the most civilised and savage of all the Skandians and had dealt fairly with Cassandra, an inch of freedom that Alyss was refused.  
The burly oarsman growled his fury at her but seemed to find a scary satisfaction with such resistance for he knocked away her hands and held them by her sides in the same loose bear hug he had on her before. Reaching forward he groped her backside and laughed when she struggled and shouted, horror colouring her voice.  
Borak however needed watching, he and Asvald were close friends but polar opposites. Where Asvald was friends with everyone of the Wolfwish Borak seemed to have a blood feud with everyone, their mother, cousin, grandfather and pet dog!  
She was right when she wondered if he would be mad about the sand in the eye, the second time she saw him it was from across the deck and he had stared at her with such venomous fury, Alyss could have sworn his eyes had flashed red.  
He was a murderer.  
And every time she had seen him since, her heat skipped a beat in fear, she would turn tail and walk the other way. One time she accidentally knocked into him and when she looked up to his face the raw, burning hatred etched into each blood vessel in his eye stood out. The pupil aflame with his arrogant belief that she had no right to be alive, the iris burning its way through her skull and her soul. Even the white around these managed to seem more disapproving than normal.  
She had gone away and cried, she despised herself for it and vowed to never let such weakness through again. That had only been the day before and the journey was many weeks long; it sounded pathetic to her ears, understandable to others but... she missed Will so much her heart ached! If he was here then none of this would be happening, not one of these Skandians would dare touch her!  
She was a strong willed person, it came with the job, but this was too much to bear alone. Harris and Karen had each other, they seemed oblivious to Alyss' distress-not that she wanted their sympathy. She neede- really wanted, no, she did need Will even if her pride refused to admit it. And if Alyss wasn't so modest she would be amazed at how much she could endure without giving in to hysterics.

"Oi! Finn! What in'the'hell do you think yer doin'?" Asvald shouted.  
Finn loosened his grip on Alyss who broke free and made for the bow, a distance from where Finn had been groping her.  
"Nothin' skipper," he said, sounding suitably abashed.  
"Gorlog's beard son! That's what passes for nothing nowadays does it?"  
Finn took an unusual interest in the grain of the floorboards, while Asvald strode towards him. Asvald may have been close enough with everyone but he was also the biggest and commanded a great deal of respect for it.  
"Well?" he yelled into his face when no reply was forthcoming.  
"Sorry... skipper."  
Asvald's scaldingly red face looked like it was ready to pop off, his neck veins appeared to be trying to wriggle their way out of his skin.  
"Don't you _'Skipper'_ me!" he bellowed, his usually calm demeanour, by Skandian standards anyway, making the outburst ever louder. Then he turned to the group that had gathered to watch.  
"All of you, back to work!" With a muttering of discontent the crowd dispersed. "And as for you," he said rounding back to the quivering Finn, "double shifts for rowing until I say otherwise," he ignored the suppressed groan that followed his statement, "and make sure this doesn't happen again." his voice was so quiet and sharp that the Skandian had to strain to hear what he was saying and then wished he hadn't when he cut himself on it.  
In the rear of the ship Alyss praised every god she could name for Asvald.

Will and Horace had been going at the Ranger's forced march pace for the past two days. Will refused to let them take regular breaks, they stopped when the moon was high and began before the sun rose. Will had not slept once in that time and Horace was worried for his friend. Of course, if Cassandra had been kidnapped by Skandians then he would rush to Hallasholm without a second thought as well. It had been less than half a year since he had been married to the princess and future queen of Araluen and his protective urges were still annoyingly high (although Evanlyn would have admitted the cute side to it). When Horace had found out where they were going and how long they would be away, he was loathe to leave his wife-especially as she was with child- but when they had received their permission to proceed with Crowley's blessings, he had to face the challenge of telling Cassandra that they would be away for such a time. And once that was done he had to face the challenge of keeping her from going with them!  
He remembered the occasion with fondness and he felt a tight ball in his stomach at the thought of leaving his love behind. He felt butterflies flutter within his stomach and blushed at the pleasant tenseness. It was to be expected after all; they were just married and it had certainly not been a political event.  
He silently thanked Duncan for being such a good king.

Horace snapped out of his reverie when Will stopped in front of him, holding his hand out to the side in a signal for Horace to halt. Pulling at Kicker's reins Horace scanned the tree cover on either side of the road where in the dark he imagined lay so many carefully concealed bandits, twigs became the pointed ends of swords and unkempt grass blades blowing softly in the wind appeared as the rhythmic tremor of men preparing for battle. Horace loosened his blade in its sheath.  
Tug tossed his mane once and looked to his master, Will discreetly sniffed the air once and visibly relaxed; Tug picked up on the Ranger's easiness and imitated his lack of concern.  
"Where is it?" Will no more than breathed into Tug's ear and made no move to look at where his horse's head pointed, instead turned towards Horace and spoke slightly louder and sounding unconcerned.  
"The silly pony is jumping at its shadows again! Let's keep going, make camp in an hour's time."  
Horace understood immediately, he had travelled with Rangers enough to know when they were pretending to throw a stalker off guard. Will had called Tug an 'it' and had apparently disregarded his telling Will of where a smell was, to a watcher this would mark them out as common travellers. In short, Will wanted him to play along.  
"Alright. Got any ideas for a campsite?"  
"Somewhere off the road," Will shrugged, "I hear bandits 'ave been prowling the area, no sense makin' ourselves targets, eh?"  
And off the top of his head he had taken on the accent of a commoner, Will never failed to impress him.  
"Right, can we go faster 'an this then? I'd like to be somewhere when we stop rather 'an anywhere."  
Will seemed to consider this, it did not show on his face but he was calculating whether he would be able to dismount going any faster than a trot and still have Tug make up for the difference in weight-just as the original Tug had so many years ago when they travelled to the Ranger's Gathering and Gilan had tried to sneak up on him and Halt.  
"Okay, but no faster than a trot. My legs are killing me from all this riding."  
That of course was also a lie, Will was a master rider.  
They nodded and kicked their spurs into the horses' flanks, trotting down the road.  
A minute later, they were pursued.

Asvald sat next to her, his manner regretful and apologetic and he held his hand out, grasping something that he evidently wanted her to have.  
Alyss slunk down to the storage hold of the ship and into her small makeshift room which she had strung up using two poles and a pilfered sheet so that she would have some small privacy from the other two captive slaves who apparently had no spatial awareness or knowledge of personal space. She had sat there for a long time feeling depressed; worry and nervousness clouding her thoughts about what the next few weeks of her life would be. She wasn't too concerned about what would happen after they moored for she already had that planned out, it was simply see Borsa or Erak-whomever came first- and use the Oberjarl's friendship with Will to get them all out of that frozen country. The Wolfwish's crew shouldn't have been raiding in Araluen anyway, they had a treaty in place! Perhaps as a Royal Courier she could refine the treaty to include a punishment for those that broke the deal between their countries. She smiled, yes, that could definitely work well.  
She had barely begun to plan the overview of the punishments and how they were to be enforced when she heard heavy footsteps bashing against each rung of the ladder as a heavy footed person scaled it. And Harris wasn't all that heavy.  
Squeaking in fright at the idea that Finn had returned to finish what he started, Alyss reached for an ornate hat stand that had clearly never belonged to one of the Skandians. She held it across her body with the left hand at a lower point than the right, her right shoulder was closer to the curtain than the other so as to strike faster and present less of a target.  
She put the stand down however when the muted thuds stopped outside of her pavilion and heard Asvald whisper her name as well as a Skandian could.  
"Alyss? It's just me, nothin' to be worried of."  
There was a soft rustle as the captive courier pulled back the sheet to allow him access civilly. It saddened him that her gaze was pointed down and her shoulders were slumped as if she were bearing some invisible weight. He was, quite frankly, shocked to see her like this. When around others she kept her chin up and walked around with dignity; the sea wolf then came to appreciate what a spectacular actress she was.  
"What do you want?" Alyss no more than croaked.  
Asvald grimaced, he had come to cheer her up but had foolishly expected her to be in better spirits. He kicked himself for the blunder.  
"I... err... have something to give you...something that belongs to yer." he mumbled, awkwardly.  
Alyss looked up in faint puzzlement, "something of mine?" then she gasped as he opened his, until that point, clenched fist. Cradled within his large, sweaty and callused palms was her marriage ring!  
She let out a completely unprofessional squeal of pleasure and slipped it on to her ring finger.  
Asvald smiled at her expression of pure, innocent happiness that seemed to light up not only her face but the entire cabin and Asvald's own mood. She looked up at him, not just the attractive girl he had first seen her as but as a radiant beauty that had kept her natural happiness bottled up inside for too long and was only now letting it out.  
_Whoever this Will fella is_, Asvald thought as Alyss wrapped him in a big hug, _he's one lucky guy._

It was half of the hour that Will had told Horace and, by means of eavesdropping, their stalker would be enough time to find a camp. As so far, Will had yet to hear horse hooves thumping the dirt path they were taking even when Tug changed the timing of his step. That either meant that their pursuit wasn't riding on horseback and were following their trail, which neither Will nor Horace had made any attempt to hide, or they were far enough behind that the horses couldn't be heard. Either way, if Will unsaddled here and Horace carried on for the rest of the hour and it turned out that their trail had horses then Will would have no way to keep up. Alternatively the people following them were on foot because Will had said to ride for just the hour and only at a trot- they could then follow on foot and find them more easily without the risk of being heard.  
What then they would do upon finding he Ranger and knight was a mystery.  
Making up his mind, Will indicated to Horace to come closer; Horace nudged Kicker with his knees and came up smoothly to his friend.  
"Stop after five minutes from now, but don't make camp." Will whispered.  
"And what are you up to?" Horace replied.  
"I'm going to find out who these people are, why they're following us and put a stop to it," and then Will growled from clenched teeth, "they're slowing me down."  
With that, Will hopped off of Tug who, without need of instruction, pressed harder into the ground to make it appear as if Will was still riding.  
He watched them go and scuffed the faint prints that he had left from the drop, not that he thought they would see them in the faint moonlight, but it never hurt to be sure. It was why he was still alive after all.  
Settling into the murky gloom of the light foliage and thin trees, Will pulled the cowl down over his face and pulled the cloak over his torso. Pulling the massive longbow out from around his back and nocking a grey shafted arrow to the string he was more than ready for a few cutthroats or bandits or whoever might be after them.  
_Trust the cloak_, he thought. That was the mantra.

"But how did you get it?" Alyss asked after disengaging the hug.  
Hallvard had had the ring taken off of her on the second day, he hadn't seen it on the night they had been captured but once in the daylight he had called for the closest man to remove it. He fumbled and it nearly went over the edge-along with her heart which thudded harder and faster- but managed to catch it. That had been awful on Alyss, she had felt even more isolated from Will and she thought she might not ever see it again.  
"Ah well," said Asvald, "I just asked the skirl, he's not the worst person and he's married himself so..." he left Alyss to piece the rest of his explanation together but her reply surprised him.  
"He's married to himself?"  
Asvald looked at her curiously and then remembering his phrasing burst into the laughter Skandians were renowned for: booming, deep and monstrously loud.  
She smiled, having Asvald on the voyage helped take away the harsh reality and made it feel more like the sea journeys she had been on in the past.  
When he finally stopped laughing and sputtered out the last few dregs of mirth as if he were pouring it from a large cask of ale he turned his gaze to the ring on her finger, but the creases of laughter around his eyes didn't fade.  
"So, who's the lucky fella in full, eh?"  
Alyss face grew a little sad, but not drastically, "Will Treaty. We were married only a month ago..."  
Asvald's mouth curved into an 'o' shape.  
"It's not like Lady Pauline _wanted_ to send me north so quickly, "Alyss spoke quietly, "but there was just no one else for the job... apparently." She sulked as she remembered being torn from Will while still in their honeymoon period. "It was all about the local militia you see." Asvald nodded resolving to stay silent. Her quiet toned talk although not making much sense was clearly quite important to her. "Yes, the militia, I remember quite clearly. They weren't doing their job properly...

A large, well furnished ante-chamber accommodated Alyss in full diplomatic garb with her small retinue standing behind her to either side.

Across from them the Baron of this particular fief who's castle, if it could be called that- it was fashioned for luxury, resided on a hill looking directly to the sea and Northport proper.

In a drearily unoriginal display he had two full mailed guards standing with Halberds crossed behind the reddened wood throne, it was a clear attempt to appear more powerful than he was and perhaps satisfy any diplomat who didn't know her place that he was doing his job and a half.

That wasn't what her report said, emblazoned with the royal seal it carried more weight and power than all the Barons the Kingdom of Araluen held collectively.  
"Pardon me sir, but it is your fief's sworn and legal duty to deal with such problems that may arise in the absence of your R-"  
"Yes, yes. Duties to the crown, I've heard it before. What of it?" asked the laid back Baron of Lancre fief.  
Alyss cleared her throat, trying to maintain her composure. It was no easy thing, the man before her was infuriating! Since she had arrived at his castle Alyss had learned that the man had no regard for women-even ones on official duty, what was more he had ignored her requests for an audience that had the signature and seal of The King himself- such was the importance of the matter. When he finally deigned to answer the King's own calls for audience, he had been derogative, informal, sexist and condescending. Clearly in his mind because of the rank that he held, he could pull such authority on a Royal Courier and act far below what would be considered acceptable behaviour by a leader of men.  
Possibly his worst act so far was, when she reminded him of her authority granted by King Duncan, to suggest a political union between one of his sons and herself to strengthen relations.  
Only through sheer will power did she withhold the urge to do something... very undiplomatic.  
Instead she informed him unapologetically of her recent marriage to the Ranger, Will Treaty. The man had paled but became little more negotiable.  
"My Lord, there has been an agreement with each of the fiefs since His Majesty came to the throne regarding fiefdom militias."  
The man was lying almost flat on his chair, one leg thrown over the arm and sipping wine from a glass far too noisily, "jog my memory."  
"That they are to deal with external and major criminal activity if the ranger is away or indisposed." Alyss replied refusing to allow her voice to betray her feelings.  
The baron rubbed his eyes, "But the crimes so far reported have been too minor for volunteer work."

Alyss inspected a scroll she had been holding, "Twelve counts of highway robbery, twenty of petty theft, several other low rate crime, three murders and a recurring pattern where parties of all sizes travelling along the main road to this fief are set upon by bandits armed with bows. Killed and robbed without prejudice! That was the first page, sir, would you like me to continue?"

"Just make your point so we can be finished with this business."

"My _point _is that the high level of crime has attracted attention from across the country! And with your ranger away, it falls to your local men-at-arms to sort the problem, as the law dictates!"

"Perhaps it would be best if you retired," growled the baron who had been growing visibly more irritable as Alyss spoke, "you just arrived from your long trip, perhaps a sleep to clear your head?"

"My head is clear sir, it is yours that is not." Alyss tried to swallow her words as they came out, but she realised the futility in such an act and so attempted to make the slur appear deliberate.

Alyss sighed, she had left the man's office in a huff, escorted by the two guards and ordered to take her back to her temporary residence. The two men who had travelled with her stood unceremoniously between them and herself, for she was an easy person to like and neither wanted to see her disgraced. Normally she would never have let something as simple as a haughty, arrogant man like the baron throw her off like that, but she had wanted to get back to Redmont as quickly as she could- had planned to be on the road that very night. The same night that she had been snatched by Skandians. She gritted her teeth in frustration and clenched her hands around her shift, if that thrice blasted oaf had just stuck to protocol, none of this would have happened! She would already be back and they would continue as they had, never knowing how close to capture she had come.

But now they had to play the game of 'Damsel in Distress', and Alyss wasn't all to certain if she liked her role in it.

"So? What then?" Asvald asked, keenly interested in the story.

Alyss glared at him, "Well, that's when you showed up. Wasn't it?"

Asvald wasn't a tactful man by any means but he had the decency to look sheepish as he realised that this _was_ his fault.

"Aha, yeah. Sorry about that." He said, rubbing his nose at the memory.

Alyss mumbled something into her knees drawn up to her chest.

"What was that?" Asvald asked.

"I said... I'm sorry about the nose." Alyss spoke slightly louder.

Once again the burly sea wolf laughed, though not as loudly as before.

"It's alright my girl," he indicated her lithe arms, "those puny sticks you call bones could never hurt a Skandian like me!" flashing her a smile to show he meant no offence.

She smiled back at him.

"It's funny though. There was one crime that stood out most among the ones that the militia should have been dealing with."

"What's that?"

"It was the group of bandits armed with bow-" she stopped as they heard the hatch open and Harris and Karen's hushed voices descending from the top of the ladder; a clop for each rung.

"It was the bandits with the bows. Lady Pauline said there was something different about that series of crimes. But she couldn't quite put her finger on it..."

Alyss yawned and Asvald gently stood, taking exaggerated care of not banging her head against the wooden boards behind them as she had been leaning on his shoulder, her eyes drooping and opening to slowly close again; her head rocked to the metronome of the waves.

She shivered at the loss of body heat. Seeing this-and being something of a chivalrous pirate- Asvald draped his woollen rug of a cloak over her, the tired courier smiled and nuzzled against her ring through the fabric. Asvald smiled back at her even though she couldn't see it. She could keep the fur, he thought, but when they came to Hallasholm Hallvard would demand the ring back, and Asvald could hardly bear to think of what her expression would be. When the time came, he hoped this Will fella had the guts to come after her. She was definitely worth it.

It had been an hour of wait without interruption before the first signs of pursuit arrived. It was the faintest shuffle of a footstep, a whisper in the wind, really nothing to go by, and even Will would have dismissed it if he hadn't been listening for that past hour where he had been attuning his senses to nature so that if there had been even the slightest change in the way an owl hooted he would become alert. And so the moist creak as a wet twig was stepped on set Will into a frenzy and he instinctively knew that this was his quarry; it was funny, he thought, the follower had set out to make Will and Horace the prey but it appeared that this prey had teeth. And a bow.

Will grinned fiercely, finally something to take his stresses out on. Usually on his adventures he ran into all sorts of trouble but so far there hadn't been a single criminal worth slapping on the back of the hand, of course everyone was guilty of _something_, just not guilty enough for Will to punch!

A faint flicker to Will's left and he realised it was the person following him. But that was impossible! He had been approaching from the right; Horace lay down the road to the left, but somehow the now silhouetted figure had passed by Will without him seeing...

Incredible, Will thought, that someone- anyone- had managed to slither past without him seeing. He was a trained ranger and this insult would just not stand.

Ever so slowly rising, gently in the case that any kind of object would crack underneath him and give the game away, Will brought his bow out. It was already nocked so it was just a matter of bringing his arm to full draw and sighting his target who was still outlined against the sky. The man stopped and paused, tilting his head to the side in the manner of one who had heard something suspicious but couldn't place the sound.

_"Who goes there?"_ he hissed, his voice a harsh comparison of the ethereal twilight still of only moments before.

"King's Ranger," Will's voice seemed to boom, "you've been had. Hands where I can see them."

The man flinched and his hand seemed to flutter between his waist and a pouch at his side. With a defeated sigh, he raised his arms as contemptuously as he could. A second later he felt a slap of leather across his bare neck.

"Thumb cuffs, put them on," was his only explanation, "and keep your hands far from that pouch at your side. Understand?"

The man nodded and squatted to pick up the brown cuffs while keeping his left hand far from his hip. After a few moments of fiddling he had them on and turned to his skilled captor.

"And now?" he was answered as a metal cylinder flew through the air and struck his temple. He slumped to the ground- rendered unconscious.

Horace stood when Will walked into the clearing, holding a bundle under his arm. Dropping the load to the root-hardened earth none too gently, the warrior was unsurprised when it groaned.

"This is him?" Horace asked.

"Who else?" said Will.

Horace nodded, "what are we going to do with him then? We can't take him with us without some major delay and-"

He stopped when Will thrust a pouch under his nose, his hand shaking with rage. Taking the bag Will withdrew his still quivering limb, it joined the other in his lap; his entire body was trembling as if on the brink of snapping. His shoulders were set, his legs rigid and his arms tensed; his glare and snarl partially concealed by the dark of the night were focused on the unmoving body at their feet.

Carefully, Horace asked, "Will? What's wrong?"

All the tension left Will's body and he seemed to draw measure of his self. He turned away from their stalker, cuffed on the floor, and to Horace.

"Look in the bag. Just look, alright?"

Horace nodded and, with one last concerned look at Will, opened the bag to the fullest its drawstring could allow.

Directly contrasting with its rough leather exterior, the interior was lined in a red satin. It contained something bronze. Something... bronze.

Horace dropped the pouch in shock, backed away and turned to Will with wide eyes.

"That was an Oakleaf! A _Bronze Oakleaf_!"

Will nodded, "How he came about it, I'm not sure. It's been nearly a full year since the last Gathering and nobody has made mention of, say, an apprentice being murdered." He stooped to collect the discarded bag, "I'm sure Crowley would have told me or Halt something of that magnitude... but still."

"How can you know for certain?"

"Exactly! We could be dealing with someone who killed a Ranger's Apprentice," he gestured hurriedly at the man, "and if that's the case we'd have no choice but to take him back to Araluen to stand trial!"

"And then Alyss..."

Together they lapsed into silence, simply staring at the figure on the floor, Will's face contorted with hatred and Horace desperately trying to think of a counter argument for his possession of that Oakleaf.

"There's more." Said Will.

"Oh?" inquired Horace, now practically sleeping on his feet.

Will handed him a piece of parchment, that Horace squinted at, trying to decipher the lettering.

"Will, I can't see in the dark as well as you. I have a torch in my saddlebag, let me get it."

A minute later he was back, holding the torch pointing out from between his knees in a crouch and striking at a tinderbox with flint.

Then, with illumination, he began to read.

Alyss awoke again to rocking. Twelve days had passed by then, that was five days since she had her ring back, and she was wondering how long the entire escapade would last. A commensurate time was being spent aboard the vessel- her small bout of sea sickness from the beginning was now but a distant memory. Her days had fallen into strict regime: rising at the same time, usually afore sunup, for chores which included helping the cabin boy with his cleaning, then with the cook she would prepare meals. If he was satisfied then a mollusc of meat she was allowed, and it was savoured. To her distress, perpetually awaiting her outside of the kitchen was the same cabin boy, _goin' by the name Alf_, he had introduced himself.

She thought he was a sweet enough boy but he never quite seemed to notice her _ring finger_- and for a brief moment she wondered if the Skandians even had marriages, let alone marital rings! Alf didn't take her rejection of his plans to watch the moon from the crow's nest too well. He had apparently, though slightly built, inherited the other sea wolves' firm belief that they were all irresistible to the fairer sex- taking her dismissal personally, he had not spoken to her since.

If she had woken then it spelt the end to her nightly release from servitude. Her days therefore were metaphoric, like the sun she rose for scorching hot work, then when work was set it would be to the cool burnish and lapping tease of moonlight upon her eyelids, as if to make amends.

Alf had told her the previous day preceding his amorous approach that they would be passing Skorghijl, Hallvard hadn't made any indication that they were to stop and the weather maintained a constant fair. More importantly, Asvald hadn't made any indication that they were to stop and he was by far the more reliable captain.

Borak was avoiding her now, of that she was thankful. It made sense that Asvald would have told him to keep his distance which was just another thing on an expanding list that she had to somehow thank him for. Not for the first time did she feel completely useless.

Alyss slumped forward out of a hammock she had made from a ragged bed sheet and was sent sprawling as the Wolfwish dipped rather suddenly. She forced herself not to cry out as head bashed against wooden planks. Waves were such a hassle.

Forcing herself to rise, Alyss straightened her trembling arms that could now barely support her weight; she was a lot thinner than when they set off, malnutrition was sapping her of energy to do more than her work regime, and it was a regime.

This lack of food had had several other negative effects on her health, for one thing her bruises took a long time to heal. Cuts she bound tightly to avoid infection but bruises that covered her arms and legs would simply not disappear.

Standing on two feet well versed in the Ocean's sway Alyss scratched at her scalp which was now too itchy for comprehension. No soap on board this behemoth of the sea, that was for sure.

Now her frame, once tall and elegant, was dishevelled and flea ridden. Her arms were bony and defined without any fat for that pleasing curve that had before drawn envious eyes, fortunately her body wasn't suffering over much and her ribs stood out only a slight bit more.

She looked and felt like a porcelain doll from the now fragile state of her body. As a high ranking woman in a society dominated by men it seemed unfair to have been brought so low and, as said before, she disliked feeling helpless.

_So_, she decided, _when we arrive in Skandia I'll dine at Erak's table and beat their fattest in an eating contest._ A nod, that kind of plan was exactly what she needed to look forward to.

She grabbed her mop and bucket by the side of the ladder and climbed the rungs with rekindled spring.

"I don't understand, it's just a list of names."

"Names of all kind," Will raised the torch to reduce the shadows, "names of merchants, and peasants and more peasants."

"There's a lord among them."

"I'm sorry?"

"A lord. Lord Barham, he was reported missing four months ago."

The name sparked the tiniest memory for Will; it was a slip of paper passed under his nose for a moment and a sarcastic word from Halt.

"I remember."

"What's he doing with _names_ of all things, he might have been murdering anyone he saw but then he doesn't have any possessions on him."

"Hold on to that Horace, he wasn't riding a horse when I found him and he doesn't have any food. Chances are that he's got camp way back with a bunch of other killers sitting around a campfire wondering where he's got to and when he'll be back."

The prone figure was disinterestedly inspected as he let out a low moan.

"He'll be awake soon, then we will get our answers."

"Bastard. We might want to just hang him soon as we have enough information to write a report."

"Will!" Horace said, shocked.

Catching his friend's eye he looked down shame faced, "Sorry, I haven't slept recently."

"I know," Horace sighed, "three hours a night isn't enough for anyone."

Will had long since reclined to the floor and extinguished the light, but he still managed to sink a little lower.

"Actually I haven't slept at all for the last three days. I couldn't."

"Not at all?"

Will shook his head.

"Go to sleep then," he cut short Will's protest, "go to sleep, I'll wake you when this guy does."

Gradually but gratefully acquiescing, the ranger's eyelids made so heavy with stress and responsibility sunk under their own iron weight. Every saddle sore became hyper sensitively apparent and every bruise and cut felt fresh as the air on raw skin that followed the whip. An adrenaline rush that had lasted over a week gave way, his determination slipped and the full blown weight of sleep crushed his body, fragile with exertion.

* * *

**A/N: Right there we go, not bad. My stories always seem to pick up on the third chapter. And again, sorry for taking so long. The strangest thing about my writing is that I usually have 2000+ words done within a week of finishing the next chapter but then don't do that tiny bit more to finish for months at a time. Anyway, GCSEs are now over! That means I _will_ actually put work into stories! Of course I have to finish Hoo, Boy and update Disciples and Stories of Alagaesia... and also edit two massive projects... and learn how to play Shogi... and pre-vise so I'm half a year ahead of everyone else when I go to college... also I'm getting Manga Studio Debut 4 so lots of drawing times... then there's that Judo camp I'm going to... and dad wants to take me to the gym five to six times a week...**

**Well that's just fantastic.**

**So, same time next year gents? :D**


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